


A Welcomed Drunk Intrusion

by mrstaemin (TheTroninator)



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-12
Updated: 2013-08-12
Packaged: 2017-12-23 05:46:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/922704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTroninator/pseuds/mrstaemin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael gets an unexpected visitor to his apartment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Welcomed Drunk Intrusion

With his laptop whirring away on his lap, Michael reached for the lamp on his nightstand and settled down in bed for some late night internet browsing. The dim light from the lamp kept him from straining his eyes as he checked his emails, twitter, and every other social media site that he deemed worthy of his time. It was late on a Wednesday night, or more accurately, very early on a Thursday morning. He had come home from work to eat left over Chinese food and spend a quiet evening watching Netflix, and now, as he read some humorous comments on his latest Rage Quit, he felt himself wearing down. Sleep would soon overtake him, no doubt. 

That’s what he thought until he heard a loud pounding on his door. He looked down to the clock on his laptop. 1:27 AM. He thought about shutting his light off and ignoring the door, allowing sleep to silence the knocking, and that’s what he did, but as he tried to sleep, the knocking only got louder and more frantic. 

Begrudgingly, the auburn haired lad pulled on a pair of jeans and drug his feet to the door. He looked out the peep hole of his front door to see a young man with sandy hair and stubble hopping around as though he were freezing. Michael quickly recognized him as his co-worker and best friend, Gavin. Upon realizing this, he considered heading back to bed, assuming this late night appointment to be more trouble than it was worth, but this was only a bit of internal joking to keep Michael pleasant enough to answer the door. So while still chuckling at himself, Michael opened the door. 

“What do you want, Gavin?” Michael demanded. 

As Gavin’s eyes met Michael’s, Michael immediately knew why Gavin had come. The British idiot was drunk beyond reason, evident even in his expression.

Gavin burped quietly. “Hi, Michael.” And he spilled his friend’s name out in that most horrendous accent. Michael almost cringed. “Are you gon’ let me in, or am I to stand out here an’ freeze all night?” 

Michael shook his head, but waved the lad into his apartment anyway. 

Without sparing a second for explanation, Gavin made his way to the couch and collapsed onto it, face down, nearly unconscious. But before Gavin could slip into an intoxicated slumber, Michael demanded some information.

“What are you doing here?” Michael asked, hoping the answer would lead Michael to the correct person at whom he could direct his anger. 

“I’m drunk,” Gavin mumbled into the couch cushion.

Michael rolled his eyes as he crossed to where Gavin’s legs were laying. He shoved them and sat down. “I can tell you’re drunk, moron. Why didn’t you go home with Geoff?”

“Geoff left withou’ me,” Gavin pouted, eyes closed. Any moment Michael would lose him to sleep. 

“Why did he do that?”

“He wan’ed t’ go to bed. I wa’n’t done drinkin’ though. So he left an’ told me t’ get a cab,” Gavin continued to barely open his mouth to speak. 

“Why didn’t you get a cab home, then?” Michael asked, planning to yell at Geoff in the morning. 

“I drank all my money away!” Gavin explained, enunciated the last word with an indignant tone, as though he were angry at the money for leaving him. 

“Why didn’t you just walk home instead of walking here then?” 

At this question, Gavin simply shrugged and turned his back to Michael. “Ya know, Millie an’…” Gavin continued to mutter unintelligible things to himself. “It’s closer an’…” more mumbles. 

Michael sighed, glad that his drunken friend had managed to make it there without harm, even if he was sort of put-out by having to deal with him when he’d rather be sleeping. “I hope you don’t have alcohol poisoning.” 

Gavin snorted. “You’re silly, Michael.” Michael then watched the rise and fall of Gavin’s chest and took it to mean that those were the last words Gavin would have for the evening.

Shuffling down the hall, Michael heard Gavin grunt. He cast a glance back at the boy with arms crossed over his chest on the couch. He groaned at himself for being such a softie. He found an old fleece blanket in his closet and tossed it over the sleeping form. 

As he began to journey back to his room, he heard a quiet, gruff voice. “Michael?” 

“Yes, Gavin?” Michael was beginning to lose his already sparse patience. 

“Can I come sleep in your bed?” 

“What?” Michael spat back.

“Your coushisso lumpy, Michael.” 

“You know, I think you just walked to my place so you could try and get in bed with me,” Michael teased. He knew Gavin wouldn’t remember any of this in the morning.

“Come on, Michael!” Gavin begged. Michael wished that he could see his face in the dark apartment, so he could remember what Gavin looked like as he pleaded with him to get into bed. “Please?”

Michael broke then, crumbled like a stale cookie onto the ground. As he picked himself back up, he heard himself say, “well come on then.”

Gavin woozily stood up and staggered toward him. Michael wrapped an arm around Gavin’s waist to stabilize him and walked him to his bed. Michael slid into his side and put his pillow behind his back as he turned away from facing Gavin. He noticed Gavin wasn’t getting in bed with him, so he turned around to notice Gavin struggling to remove his shoes. 

“Oh my God,” Michael groaned, getting out of bed again. He pushed Gavin to sit down and began untying his friend’s shoes. “I feel like you’re my daughter,” Michael complained. 

Gavin held an expression somewhere between stupid drunk tired and stupid drunk gleeful as he watched Michael pull his shoes off. 

“Now go to sleep!” Michael commanded, angrily pulling his sheets over himself. It was a somewhat false anger that he displayed. As irritating as the scenario was shaping up to be, Michael enjoyed taking care of Gavin and knowing that Gavin came to him for it. He wouldn’t let anyone know that, though.

Michael lay waiting to feel Gavin flop into bed beside him, but all he heard was the sound of a gangly man stumbling around. 

“What are you doing?” Michael hissed.

Gavin then began crawling into bed. “I was just takin’ off m’ trousers.” 

“Oh, lovely,” Michael mumbled to himself as the inebriated Gavin twisted around under the sheets, his legs grazing up against Michael’s until he finally settled down.

Just as Michael began to think that maybe, after nearly half an hour of dealing with drunk-out-of-his-mind Gavin, he may get some quiet and fall asleep. As this thought floated in his mind like a balloon, Gavin began to move, popping the peaceful thought bubble. He moved the pillow dividing the bed. “Here’s your pillow, Michael.” 

Michael snatched the pillow from Gavin and put it under his head. No pillow divider for him, if Gavin intended to move it. 

At this point, Michael knew it was coming, any moment now. Yes. Gavin’s arm thrown lazily over his waist. Gavin’s big, British nose nuzzling into Michael’s neck. Gavin hummed slightly before a big snore. Finally, the boy fell asleep. Michael, however, had to battle with the goose bumps crawling down his neck like tiny, nightmarish ants and the butterflies pounding in his stomach like Gavin pounded on the door. With every exhale, Gavin’s breath would tickle Michael’s neck until he shivered. But he knew now waking Gavin to move would only make things worse, so he kept still. He kept still until his breathing matched with Gavin’s and the tickling dulled to a soothing caress of warm alcohol breath and the butterflies decided to keep it to a gentle flutter rather than a kamikaze on his stomach and he too fell asleep, feeling warm and maybe a little bit drunk himself.


End file.
